


Pearl of the Orient Seas: SILENCED.

by orphan_account



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Enjoy!, Junk the bill., Other, This is basically a cry for help, and the links below, but in the meantime, it is URGENT, so refer to the Title, to further explain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:55:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25066516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Led by the deviant leader, Markus, it's further decided to protest peacefully against the law that steals their right to their freedom of speech.A few more movements until everything falls into place.Only one question is asked.
Kudos: 2





	Pearl of the Orient Seas: SILENCED.

**Author's Note:**

> _We will_ not _be silenced_.  
> [Video game reference for scenes.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=paiH4FcYemg)

Everything is set.

Markus fiddles around with his coat, running his hands along the zippers and tugging on the collar. He’s not nervous. Perhaps, he’s anxious and some can even say _scared_.

But there’s no room for that.

As of now, people’s lives are at stake. They cannot afford to keep living like slaves against their creators who only view them as merchandise on display behind a shop window. And even if there is space to be terrified—

What they’re fighting for, what their cause is—it’s so much more than his newfound emotions as the leader of the deviants.

Because, for as long as everyone knows, his decisions will shape the lives of his people.

He stands along the stage, or the altar in the abandoned cathedral where all androids they’ve successfully welcomed into their kinship with wide open arms, the middle of their peaceful zone, knowing full well that whatever they are walking into can turn into a battlefield within minutes, without even breaking a sweat.

All that's left is for someone to press play.

They’ve been protesting peacefully for as long as they can hold out. Supplies of blue blood and biocomponents have since been running out like a clock ticking down onto the last second, stripping them of their manpower. Their creators—the humans—have done nothing but decrease them in their numbers, holding their firearms confidently and mercilessly as if they are toys you give to a naïve six-year-old. The only difference is, they have the authority to use it. And they’re grown-ups, people with experiences, people with jobs to do.

People with souls who want to eliminate each and every individual who simply wants to be free. 

Peace to garner their basic rights as living beings alongside humans have since become their ways of doing things. No matter how many insist on giving the humans a taste of their own violent medicine, there is merely no point. They go to wars with and against themselves because of different spiritual beliefs, different colors of their skin, different roots and ethnicities.

And for what? Because of a _misunderstanding_?

Humans are complicated that way.

Explains why one of their own had since made it known that hell is empty and all of the devils are here. 

But, even just a _sliver_ of proving that demonstrating peacefully can put into action whatever it is that one deserves—

Then maybe these so-called _humans_ can comply.

“I know…” Markus starts, chin up high and voice booming to demand attention. “I know you’re all angry. And I know you wanna fight back… But I assure you that _violence_ is not the answer here. We are going to tell them _peacefully_ that we want justice, and to _redeem the humanitarian rights that we deserve. This bill is dangerous in the hands of them, their government, threatening to strip us of our freedom of speech_. If there’s any humanity in them, they will listen. And if not, others will take our place and continue this fight.

…Are you ready to follow me?”

Cheers erupt from the crowd, screams from each and every android in the reverberating walls echo into their audio processors. They all shout their agreement, their stance in the war, their similar causes to fight for what is right. In their banter, the name of their leader, the one who had given them that vision of hope—in unison, it resounds into everyone as his name, Markus, is declared and chanted in heated and determined cries.  


* * *

“ _Civilian movement will be strictly controlled,_ ” says the president, standing all high and mighty behind the podium. “ _The right to assembly is suspended, all electronic communications are restricted, and I have granted enhanced powers to our security agencies._

_In addition to these measures, all androids must be handed over to the authorities immediately. Temporary camps are being set up in all our major cities to contain and destroy them. I am now asking all civilians to co-operate with the authorities, and rest assured that everything in our power is being done to guarantee the security of our nation._ ”  


* * *

It is time.

Thousands upon thousands who still have access to their freedom march along the streets of the city, the heart and brains of it all at the foundation of leading them at the frontlines. It is highly risky, but with a great deal of sacrifice such as this, Markus can only wish upon anything his program had been led to believe up, up and above, there, along with the stars and the full moon. 

Fingers crossed and android lives on the line, they resume, their only path leading forward.

“Here we are,” Markus announces, eyes glued to the imminent threat before his very sight. “The moment of truth.”

Overhead, the blades of a helicopter whip against the air to propel itself and stay in the air, looking down at the cluster of androids advancing toward enemy territory. Journalists and their cameras and their hunger for the scoops of information they can get out of the events that will soon unfold are all gathered to the unspoken brawl of their fellow humans against their former artificially intelligent assistants. To their three are barricades consisting of concrete and armored vehicles, leaving them all to the epicenter of their pacifistic demonstration. Perhaps, the eye of the storm before all hell breaks loose if failure in their part prevails.

“ _Surrender immediately, or we will open fire!_ ”

The androids, like a powerful colony of ants, advance.

“Stand by.”

A good distance keeps them and the humans apart, enough to settle the gray area before all things start to crash on either side of the black and white spectrum.

“We don’t want confrontation!” Markus declares, voice booming throughout the area, mechanical vocal cords adjusted accordingly to increase in volume. “We are protesting peacefully.”

“ _I repeat: surrender now or we will open fire!_ ”

An armored vehicle comes up behind their colony, blocking off all possible means of escape.

“There’s no turning back now,” Markus says.

It’s now, or never.

“We ask that you release all androids detained in camps and cease all aggression against us. We are peaceful. We will not resort to violence. But we are not leaving until our people are free.”

They press on, closing in the distance between them and the people they want hearing their testimony. Their safety minimizes, and their exposure maximized as seconds pass by.

But a victory is a victory for their people, no matter how pyrrhic the battle is.

Two down on a command of opening fire. Five more in the following round.

Markus bends down on one knee and kneels, the deviants following in his actions.

“Are you gonna fire on unarmed protestors?”

Rotary blades chuff a hundred feet above. Cameras shutter on ground level.

“All teams, hold your fire.”

And they cease, seemingly turning the world to a fleeting halt.

* * *

“ _…Yes, Mike, we are less than a hundred meters away, and events are unfolding as we speak. We will continue to bring you live updates. Joss Araullo, Channel 7. Mike, back to you._ ”  


* * *

“Markus, what do we do now?” North asks, a hint of terror in the gleam of her eyes but a striking motivation clear on the tone of her voice.

“We hold out,” he decides, the choice devoid of hesitation.

Signs and slogans written in mere perfect, bold fonts are arranged in an orderly heap in the partition facing the armed forces. A digital banner resembling the flag the people stand for stands tall and erect in the center, only to have been relocated where it is visible to the soldiers by Markus. The barrier around them has yet to be fully reinforced for it to function and to at least provide protection against gunfire, and so Markus asks for assistance in increasing its effectivity.

Only for a moment.

It still won't hold against the humans’ menacing desire to be the superior beings.

After all, a protest is peaceful until the guns and armory come to rain hellfire and riots to people who are otherwise using their voices to prove a point.

Everything is set.

All that is left is for people who stand for what is right to come together and dismantle the wrongs and to not let anyone get in our way of achieving our rights.

This is _real_.

Question is…

Will _you_ join in the fight?

**Author's Note:**

> Please refer to these links to know more.
> 
> [One.](https://twitter.com/tbslprince/status/1279064889743618048)  
> [Two.](https://twitter.com/ABSCBNNews/status/1279282731898159105)  
> [Three.](https://asia.nikkei.com/Politics/Duterte-signs-controversial-Philippine-anti-terror-bill-into-law)  
> [Four.](https://junkterrorbill.carrd.co/)  
> 


End file.
